14 years - Axl Rose x OC

28

A/N: I did not disappear! A snowstorm hit my area and I lost power for 3 days and couldn't write. But, obviously besides this chapter, I plan on making it up to you all. Expect in the next 24 hours a fully lemon/smut chapter :)

--September 22nd, 1990

Axl and Lita sat together in the lobby of their hotel in Paris. The crew moved around them, packing up all the gear for their departure soon, and Lita Monroe watched Axl tap the palms of his hands against his thigh, beating an invisible drum. He was humming along to something as well.

Managers and guitar technicians walked about briskly and Axl just sat there, on the old and worn, leathery couch of the lobby, staring at Lita. Her face was no longer brimmed and overflowing with tears in the last twenty-four hours; she was bare before him.

Of course, her feelings toward the situation were the same–Lita still wanted to rip the skin off of Bob Guccione's face; but she was more focused on how that invading, idiosyncratic man found the polaroids Lita was so sure to have hidden. She felt betrayed in some way.

Her personal life, documented in awfully sexful and self-exploitive cheap films, were on the cover of news tabloids in the city. Lita felt like her whole life, everything undiscussed to the press, was naked for everyone to witness–and physically it was, for the censoring Spin magazine had left little to the imagination of the involuntary celibates bound to buy the publication.

Lita knew she was backed into a corner: she could not let this go, could not forget about it and move on; and the paparazzi likely wouldn't either. So she knew she'd have to address it somewhere, whether it was at their next show or one of the magazines that had been reaching out to her and Axl.

Lita didn't care as long as they didn't make any of the obscene comments about her body as Spin and now the people at MTV had. She looked up at the television in front of them: MTV was on–funny, Lita thought. Axl was still humming next to her as she reached for the remote. As she grabbed it, trying to find the button to change the channel, Axl spoke, "Can you turn the volume down?"

"Sure," Lita replied, complying. So they both sat there, the tune vibrating out of Axl's lips slowly turning into a song. He bobbed his head slightly to the beat as Lita looked at him curiously, forgetting the television. He looked at her now, smiling, and sang out to her, "You...could be mine!"

Axl chuckled and went back to humming, still staring indirectly. Lita leaned into the couch and toward him, questioning, "What?"

"You could be mine?" He moved on the couch, laying his legs on top of her in a sleeping position, pulling Lita toward him in front of the passing workers.

"I don't get it." Was it the name of a new song, something he'd shown her that she'd blissfully forgotten? Their eyes pierced each other as Axl replied, "I think me and Erin are done for good." Way to sour the mood, Lita thought, bringing up the woman who just dragged you through the mud in a two sentence interview.

"What's that s'possed to mean?" She eyed him. "I'm sayin' it because me and Erin are done for. And I thought you might be happy 'bout that."

"And why might I be happy, ecstatic even, about you and your fiance breaking up?" There were two meanings to the sentence Lita spoke. One, as in, 'I understand what this means for us completely, and I'm totally joking with you when I say this in the most bitchiest way possible.' The other was more complex, 'I feel absolutely awful for what I've done to separate the two of you, and I hold a deep regret in hurting her, but I love you too much to not admit that I wouldn't do it again happily.'